


Disconnected

by klari19



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Torture, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological and physical torture, Twisted Relationship(s), Whump, ngl the comfort part is v mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klari19/pseuds/klari19
Summary: “You claimed another victory,” Sendak purrs into Shiro’s ear, and it’s impossible for him not to feel the shiver that courses through Shiro’s body in a morbid mix of fear and excitement at that, his Galra hand smoothing over his scarred back as he speaks. “You did very good—again.”“Th-thank you, Commander…” Shiro murmurs back without needing to be asked or to think about it anymore.Sendak hums approvingly behind him, the hand against Shiro’s back pressing him harder into the wall. “Let me give you another medal to congratulate you…” Sendak says as he trails the tip of a claw over Shiro's back, and Shiro nods.





	

**Author's Note:**

> BOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Would you believe me if I told you I didn't realize February started like 3 days ago? Last semester of college has got me a little knocked out and it's only been 2/15 weeks :' )
> 
> Anyway, HERE'S YOUR SUPER FREAKING LATE BACKUP GIFT FOR THE SECRET SANTA EVENT! Yooooo... Yooo!! YOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You seem to be into a lot of really dark stuff and I was really appealed by that. Even though I've never been exactly great at writing that kind of content and that it's been YEARS since I last wrote anything like this, I decided to try my hand at some of your prompts, namely (physical and psychological) hurt and some v mild comfort, imprisonment, torture and whump. I also went with the option of (non-romantic, as requested) Shiro/Sendak, which allowed me to write about their dynamics for the first time ever! I have NO IDEA if I handled all of this alright, but I hope you enjoy how I worked with it all! And feel free to point out anything that's awkward and that should be worked over!
> 
> As a mod of the event I'm very embarrassed that you had to wait so long for your gift, but I hope you like it nonetheless! I wish you a great year <3 - Clara

At the end of the fight, Sendak is waiting for him as he always does. He is the tall figure looming in the obscurity behind Shiro’s fellow inmates, his stern expression—save for a curl of his lips—very different from the public’s raging enthusiasm. Shiro feels the weight of his stare on the back of his neck as he moves inside the rink, feels every hair in his body rise in unease under the scrutiny.

Sendak is the predator. And Shiro is his prey.

He eventually came to learn that there was no way to escape that.

Shiro doesn’t make it three steps out of the fighting rink before he’s absorbed into a swarm of aggressively fervent inmates congratulating him—as always—, but it takes only the blink of an eye for the crowd to dissipate at Sendak’s approach. Absolute silence surrounds him as he makes his way forward and enters Shiro’s personal space—or it might as well be that Shiro is rendered deaf by the blood rushing into his ears, leaving his entire body in a frozen state.

But deafness isn’t an issue for Shiro. Not yet. He confirms that when he clearly hears Sendak murmur “Well done, champion,” into his ear. But the warm tone Sendak uses only makes a chill run down Shiro’s spine; the claws scratching almost lovingly at the back of his neck don’t help either.

Escorted by the tall and imposing figure of Sendak, the glow of his electric arm announcing their approach at every corner, Shiro makes his way back to his cell as quickly as he only ever does with him. With any other Galra soldier he’s always tried to escape—and has failed every single time.

The sight of his cell door is both a blessing and a curse—Shiro craves the darkness and silence of the small contained space, but he dreads the moment when he’ll be stuck inside it with Sendak. Those are all distant feelings though, ones Shiro remembers having and that have stuck inside his mind even through time. He doesn’t really know how he feels about them now, but the Galra behind him doesn’t give him a chance to sort his thoughts; Shiro is rushed inside by the sheer strength of Sendak’s intense stare. The door clanks shut, making the heavy metal walls and Shiro’s mind shake, disturbed and unsettled.

Shiro senses rather than feels Sendak’s hands when they first land on him, both mind and body numb—but he’s gotten accustomed to it by now. The first times he shook with fear, tears streaming down his cheeks as he scrambled at the walls and made his fingers bleed in the process. Now that he’s gone through many more fights, through Haggar’s laboratory, and through Sendak’s repeated _congratulatory rites_ … Shiro is more of a living shell than a human being. He still feels basic emotional and hormonal responses, mostly negative ones—fear and panic, unease and disgust, adrenaline rushes as well—, but it’s like he’s

Disconnected.

The sound of fabric ripping brings Shiro back to reality. He suddenly registers he’s pressed up against the wall with Sendak at his back ripping his black shirt to shreds. Shiro by now knows he will have a new one in front of his door by morning, as always.

“You claimed another victory,” Sendak purrs into Shiro’s ear, and it’s impossible for him not to feel the shiver that courses through Shiro’s body in a morbid mix of fear and excitement at that, his Galra hand smoothing over his scarred back as he speaks. “You did very good—again.”

“Th-thank you, Commander…” Shiro murmurs back without needing to be asked or to think about it anymore.

Sendak hums approvingly behind him, the hand against Shiro’s back pressing him harder into the wall. “Let me give you another medal to congratulate you…” Sendak says as he trails the tip of a claw over Shiro's back, and Shiro nods.

The electricity making up Sendak’s right arm buzzes and sizzles when he moves his limb upwards, tapping Shiro’s shoulder with metallic fingers in a silent demand. Shiro complies, raising both arms above his head and crossing his wrists over each other. Sendak lets out a low laugh from within deep inside his throat, a sound which makes Shiro go cold all over, and then his robotic hand is gripping both of Shiro’s and keeping them secure over his head.

A slow breath into his neck. The ghost of a touch over his skin. Shiro would have wanted to scream before—would have probably done it—, but know he keeps himself still. He waits for _it_ with unnatural patience and calm, with only a single drop of sweat rolling down the length of his back.

 _It_ happens finally after what feels like an eternity, and _this_ Shiro feels it unlike anything he’s ever felt in his life. His time spent in captivity—whether it has been weeks or months or years, Shiro doesn’t know—has deprived him of almost any real feeling, but the sensation of Sendak’s Galra claws tearing the skin of Shiro’s back cuts through Shiro’s numb state as nothing else can.

Shiro’s ears ring, a high-pitched screech reverberating inside his skull as his nerves protest at the slow and deep carving of claws into his flesh. The first times he shouted, bloodcurdling screams ripping through his throat as he banged his head against the wall—now he’s not sure if he can’t hear himself scream or if he simply can’t find the strength to do so anymore, his body supplying him with only breathy whimpers and choked sobs he barely registers. His eyes are wide open, but Shiro can’t see.

The tightening of Sendak’s hand around his wrists tells Shiro he’s subconsciously moved, and he knows what’s reserved for him because of that. Sendak digs his claw deeper inside Shiro’s flesh, tearing through muscle and nerves and everything else in between in it’s painfully slow way down. It’s a punishment within the reward, and Shiro accepts it all.

Whether Shiro blacked out or it simply ended before he realized, Shiro doesn’t know. But the next thing he feels is Sendak’s warm tongue trailing over the fresh gruesome wound at his lower back. Shiro’s head pounds with the intensity of the shock on his nerves from that, but he barely feels it now. By now the gesture provokes a mix of pain and comfort, and Shiro doesn’t have the mind to process which one is worse.

“How many,” Sendak growls into Shiro’s skin, trailing his mouth upwards over Shiro’s back as he straightens up.

“Seventy-six,” Shiro calls automatically, his voice breathless and unsteady. Seventy-six battles won. Seventy-six scars earned. “Vrepit sa.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a big issue in one of my previous fandoms so now I'm going to state it clearly for everyone else: if I write this kind of content and enjoy myself doing so, it doesn't mean that I condone it in real life. It goes the same for people who like reading it.
> 
> Aside from that, thank you for reading! May you have a wonderful day or night~
> 
> PS: I'm on tumblr @ kuroosthighz and clara-wrote-once


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